


Long Winter

by D3AD_L0VE



Category: Left 4 Dead (Video Games)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, oh no there is only one bed, romance? idk man. beggars can't be choosers in the apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:35:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26234260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D3AD_L0VE/pseuds/D3AD_L0VE
Summary: chapter summaries:1. When the last leaf falls; ~4k words, prequel chapter following the Hunter pre-infection2. The biting cold; ~600 words, short chapter establishing the Hunter after he "wakes up"3. Snowfall; ~6k words, the Hunter and a human survivor find his original hideout, bit of angst & fluff4. Avalanche; ~4k words, Hunter & Human doing unchristian things
Relationships: Hunter (Left 4 Dead)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 24





	1. when the last leaf falls

**Author's Note:**

> I have always loved the hunter. I don't know why, I just think they're neat.

****

**((the survivor while he's still human))**

**Two months since the outbreak.**

He'd done pretty alright, by all accounts, to make it this long unscathed. Most other living people in the city had already met their demise, whether by their own hands or the snapping claws of the rotting masses. But luck was on his side in that he fancied himself somewhat of a traceur before the infection began, so he had gotten out of tight situations countless times by now. He'd dedicated way too much time to parkour according to his father. But his father wasn't here anymore. That had been the first of many deaths he witnessed by the horde, one by one every face he knew was lost to the crowds of undead until only he remained. The last of them only a week ago, a classmate from his college years back in town for a birthday right when everything started going to hell and the travel ban was enacted. And then the social gathering ban, and then the restrictions on citizens leaving their home at all. 

It all felt like a distant memory, a different life completely. Two months ago he was going to propose to his long term girlfriend. He felt around in his hoodie pockets as he stood on the cold rooftop above the chaos, the ring box was still there even now. As if he’ll wake up one day and this would all have just been a bad dream. She was gone too, another face lost to the insatiable crowd. 

With a sigh he turned away from the rotting gathering on the streets below to retreat back into his sanctuary for the night. He'd come across this rooftop storage closet, for lack of better description, by chance one night. It had clearly been intended for use by authorities in some way, owing to its telltale red metal door and rather well stocked shelves. Perhaps soldiers were to make camp up here and actually protect the citizens below, before that plan was abandoned. Now nobody protects, people only run, hide and pray they make it through the night.

He had managed to gather a decent amount of provisions in the weeks gone by, pistol ammo from the gun store across the way, plenty of blankets for the cold northern winters gathered from the apartment building his residence was situated on top of, and a reasonable stock of canned foods from the abandoned supermarket a few blocks away. It certainly wasn't going to feature on MTV cribs any time soon, but it was safe and somewhat comfortable, and in the current world such things are closer to miracle than mundane.

He lights a small solar powered lantern and sits on the pile of plush blankets that acts as a bed, pulling out his wallet and propping it beside the lantern like a photo frame. A photo of a young, smiling couple looks back at him and he feels like a stranger to the people in it. _Another time, Disneyland, sun bright in their faces as they ask a tourist to take the photo for them._ He almost cracks a smile at the recollection, until reality rears its ugly head in the form of a horde screaming as they run down the streets far below, must have been summoned by a straggler hitting a car, they're not terribly bright individually.

He rubs the wetness that pricks at the corners of his eyes, there's no use for such frivolous things as tears anymore. As he drags his hands down his face he notes the roughness of his cheeks and grabs a large shard of broken mirror to survey the face that stares back. Dark eyes under heavy, furrowed brows, short dark hair and considerable stubble decorating a strong jawline. He's still got it, he thinks to himself as he sits in the dim light. With nothing better to do, he wraps himself up in his pile of comfort and tries to block out the sound of the shrieks below until another sleepless night takes him.

_"-need to gather- -ential supplies and follow th- -irections to the closest ev- -n point" the radio cuts in and out as my mother stands anxiously by it, lip caught tight between her teeth and her hands shake, she turns to look at me..._

_hundreds, no, thousands of people gathered at the bridge. The soldiers won't let people through. Gunshots and screaming in the distance. are they killing civilians in the panic? Or those… things..._

_They looked so scared and I was powerless. I was first through the barricade. parents trying to calm my little brother down. Trigger happy soldiers on edge. Gunshot. Little brother gone just like that. Only a kid. Hellish sounds from the end of the bridge. getting closer and closer. Indistinguishable from the screams of the living. My dad's face… that horrible screech..._

_Mother gone. Father gone. Little brother gone. I can't forget their faces..._

He sits bolt upright up in a cold sweat. That dream again, he looks at his watch to discover only two hours had passed and he collapses back down, bringing his hands up to cover his ears. They were still out there, but quieter than before thankfully. He must have spent the next 4 hours staring blankly at the concrete ceiling, hoping that this would be the night he'd finally get a good rest, but alas. The quiet alarm on his watch beeped, and the sun slowly began to creep in through the window of the metal door. He sighs, defeated, and pushes himself up out of the mess of bedding ready to start the monotonous day again.

He keeps his routine up for the next few days, the usual sneaky run to the grocery place, seeing what he can stuff into his bag without being over encumbered by canned ravioli. There was so much canned ravioli, it wasn't even that bad but it was barely touched when the worst of the looting went on, brand loyalty, he supposed. A quick lookout for any of the unique infected before he heads into another apartment block again, still got some floors left to scour in this one but he'll come back another time, he thinks. Can never have too many blankets in an apocalypse after all, and nobody was gonna miss them.

The days that follow are as uneventful as ever, until suddenly they’re not. He’d been skimming the low rooftops of the gas station and a corner store when he lost his footing, he scrambled at the ledge of the gas station roof before losing his grip and plummeting a short but painful distance to something hard below

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, his ears ringing loud as he pushed against the hard and oddly smooth surface he landed on. A split second passed before he realised the loud noise in his head was not from his fall, but from the blaring alarm of a stationary car beneath him. His stomach dropped and he looked around in panic, knowing what would follow.

And then he heard it, The telltale choir of a swarm. Their footsteps loud against the concrete ground, there must have been at least 40 of them when they came into view, funnelling out of an office block. He scrambled to his feet, wincing as his ribs protested the sudden movement and grabbed the pistol holstered to his thigh to hastily check the clip. _12 rounds isn’t going to cut it_. He had to run.

The look of fury on the infected faces made his blood run cold as his feet pounded against the ground, he knew where he needed to go and how to get there and the pressure to keep focused was mounting with every step. He leads the crowd on a mad dash through the same office block they came from, assuming they had all come out to investigate the noise, luckily his assumptions were correct and he hallways and cubicles were empty as he thundered through them with his unwanted posse. His legs burned as they carried him up the cold dim stairwell and out to the roof at last. He knew the roofs in this city, now they were in his territory. He slammed the roof access door behind him just to gain a few seconds of respite before sprinting towards the edge of the building, the momentum of his run aiding him as he made a leap of faith across a sizeable alleyway to a slightly lower down building next door. 

He landed with a roll and a grunt as the pain in his ribs sent a shock through his system before looking back to the office roof. They poured out of the stairwell after destroying the door and immediately began looking for their prey in every direction. He threw himself low behind a fan box and kept himself out of sight to listen, peering through the vents on its side to watch the horde. It took a few arduous minutes for them to give up their search and meander back into the building, clearly their sense of object permanence left something to be desired. He kept still for a while afterwards just to be sure there were no stragglers and when he was certain he was alone he finally breathed properly again, gingerly prodding at his side to see how badly his ribs were hurt. _That’s going to bruise for sure_ , he thought as he got back to his feet and started making his trip back to his own roof a few streets away, cold night air whipping his face as he ran. He considered himself lucky that his legs weren’t messed up when he fell, but tried not to think about what would have happened to him if they were. He shuddered.

Just as his safe spot came into view, he heard a second pair of quiet feet hitting the roof not far behind him, accompanied by a low animalistic growl. _Shit. jumper on my heels. I knew I heard something._ the growl turned into an ear splitting screech that got too close, too fast and he felt sharp claws scratch the back of his calf as they attempted to grasp it but missed. The swipe only pushed him to run harder and faster despite the immense pain in his ribs and the now burning cuts on his leg. A mere two yards from the door to his ‘home’ something heavy and angry collided with him and pinned him down. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he registered long sharp claws hovering above and a disfigured, hooded face snarling down at him. The creature on top of him had zero intention of playing any more cat and mouse and started tearing at his chest. Instinctively he threw an arm up to protect himself better, but the creature was ferocious and unlamenting in its objective. He struggled beneath it as he reached to his holster again, just then the creature sank its jagged teeth into his wrist, he let out a sharp cry of pain and frustration before pulling the barrel up to its chin and pulling the trigger. 

A single shot rang through the frigid night and his attacker slumped over, the contents of its head spilling out onto the cold concrete beside him. His eyes wide and heart thundering in his chest, he rolled the body off and pushed himself away from it. _Shit shit shit that was too close._ After a short moment of dead silence, the adrenaline pumping through his veins subsided and the burning stinging of the slashes to his chest and arm made themselves known. He gritted his teeth to pull himself up from the ground and close the short distance to his hideout, practically throwing himself inside and slamming the door behind him. _Are you fucking kidding me? THIS close to safety?_ He seethed to himself as he threw his neatly organised supplies around, looking for a first aid kit. Seeing the bright red pouch felt like finding the holy grail and drinking from it as he threw back painkillers. He tended to his arm first, wincing as the textured bandage material clung to the painfully raw wounds, he discarded his shredded shirt to assess the damage to his torso, which he deemed not awful by comparison, but still hurting like a bitch and needing to be wrapped up. He almost laughed when he noticed the gashes on his calf, at how close they came to severing the tendon on his heel. _That would have really fucked me up, holy shit._ The bruising of his ribs barely registered since this new, awful pain had taken up residence in his very being. 

With a shaky hand he lit the small lamp again and collapsed onto his makeshift bed, relishing in the escape from the cold hard world. Sleep wouldn’t come easy that night, even less so than any other night, as every slight movement caused the bandages to pull at the wounds, reigniting the burn that had started to dull in his unconsciousness. 

_Won’t be going on any supply runs anytime soon, then._ He sighed, sitting up to hold his head in his hands as he counted the stock on his shelves, thankfully he’d collected a not insignificant number of cans so he wasn’t too concerned about running out just yet. To distract from the pain he organised the cans by their expiry date, shortest shelf life at the front, longest at the back like he used to at the grocery store that one summer. He picked out a can of chicken soup _that’s supposed to help you not feel awful, right?_ He thought as he pulled out a small gas powered stove, pilfered from the outdoor rec centre. He figured lighting a full fire right then, in that condition, wouldn't serve him well. 

As the compact burner flickered to life, he watched the contents of the small pot slowly bubble away and the smell of hot food took him back to easier days. He thought about his mother's cooking and what she would say about the state of his room _"tidy that bed up, bring your dirty dishes downstairs, open the curtains and let the sunlight in"_ she'd shake her head and roll her eyes as she shut the door. He shut his eyes tight, fighting back emotions that threatened to escape at the memory of what was gone forever.

He snapped out of his idle thoughtlessness when the distinct smell of burning hit him, scrunching his nose and shaking his head a little as he dealt with the now burnt pot. He managed to salvage a good amount of his meal, dealing with burnt-on food on his only good pot was just another complexity he didn't have the energy to address right then. The pain in his injuries had barely dulled in the hours that he had acquired them, so much so that he found himself reaching for painkillers again when it was starting to become unbearable. _Shouldn't have let my guard down after that horde encounter. I should have known that one of those things could be stalking me at any given time. That's kinda their whole thing, dumbass_ . He scoffs to himself as he eats his lonely supper. He manages to sleep for a couple of hours after concentrating **really** hard on not moving at all, lest he make his injuries worse.

**Day 1**

The following day was a slow one, since he had decided to keep himself holed up until he felt better. most of the day was spent reading some books he'd already read a hundred times before. He'd found himself unable to keep any food down when he tried, despite the noises his stomach made. When the beeping of his watch told him sunset was imminent, he took to laying in bed, staring at the concrete ceiling until he couldn't keep his eyes open.

A few hours later, in the pitch black of night he shot upright in a cold sweat, not even knowing when he'd managed to pass out, feeling his clothes were damp and clinging uncomfortably to his skin. He clumsily lit the small lamp and looked down at himself when he noticed an odd sensation under the bandages, and right before his eyes they started to bleed a deep crimson, right through the fabric. Panicked, he began tearing them from his body in a frenzy, struggling against the security of them he felt himself becoming agitated the more he had to fight them. After a moment he had freed himself of the bandages, his struggle with them had not helped ease his pain as the harsh jerking only exacerbated the injuries. With a, quite frankly, gross slap, the blood soaked rags were hurled against the furthest wall and landed in a heap. He gritted his teeth as he held his trembling arm up by the dim warm lamp light and looked closely at the gashes there. Under close inspection the blood seemed to bubble out, slow and lethargic like it was struggling to get pumped around. He hesitantly swiped a finger through it and to his curious horror, it was more viscous than he knew it rightly should have been. On top of that, his entire being felt like it had been set aflame, like molten liquid was coursing through his veins and drilling against his nerves. 

_Fuck fuck fuck. Okay stay calm. It's just your body fighting off some infection, probably since you didn't clean these cuts too good._ He hastily scrambled through his first aid kit in search of something more useful than painkillers in that moment, with a small feeling of victory he unscrewed the cap of the antibiotics and swiftly took a small handful. He sat there in the low light for a long while, hoping to feel some sort of effect of the pills at some point but the relief from the internal fire never seemed to come. In trying not to panic any further he fell into a sort of idle trance, gently rocking back and forth where he sat with his eyes glued to the drying mound of damp bloodied bandages in the shadow. 

**Day 2**

His attention was brought away from that spot in his room by the quiet beeping of his watch, marking the sunrise. His eyes locked on to the source of the droning noise emanating from his wrist and he just stared at it until it ran its course. He rubbed his eyes, hissing at the renewed awareness of his painful physical state as he moved, and stood from the spot he had spent the whole night in. He looked around the small room, eyes glancing over the canned foods and the welcoming looking bed and despite the hunger pains in his stomach and the ache that had set deep into his bones, neither of those things looked appealing to him in that moment.

The muscles in his limbs felt impossibly stiff, as if he had been keeping them tense through the entire night. Like he had run a marathon without taking a single step, it was a familiar ache on top of all the other discomfort, one he had experienced many times before after intense sessions scaling buildings and tumbling on hard concrete surfaces. He didn't want to think about what all of this pain, the bizarre effect his blood had displayed and the lack of appetite was telling him. A cold realisation set in his bones, making his hair stand on end as he glanced at the photo in the wallet again. The man in the photo was a complete stranger even now, but it was going to go way beyond that, He knew, but a determined part of him hoped, prayed that this was just a slow reaction to the attack, his body trying to protect him and fight off anything malicious. He hesitantly made for the door, subconsciously avoiding the narrow beams of light intruding through the metal grating. He faltered a little before forcing the crossbar out of the lock and pulling the door open, the previously unnoticeable sound of metal hinges sending a terrible surge of pain through his ears and down his spine, almost knocking him flat on his ass as he clutched his head. Coupled with the blinding radiance of the sun as it began to climb over the horizon, his senses were overwhelmed and he found himself almost… hissing at the horrible experience _Okay, what the fuck did I do that for…_

With a thud, the door was slammed shut again, and he spent the day just waiting for the sun to go down. Not eating or drinking for the following hours that he could count on both hands and barely having so much as an idle thought as his eyes remained locked to the small window. 

**Day 3**

The gentle beeping of his watch again acting as the grounding force of his strange mood, only now the quiet beeping felt more like being strapped to a car alarm. A silent rage filled him as he tore the contraption from his wrist with such vigor it cut into his flesh, only to discard it across the room. The anger at the apparently deafening noise didn't lessen with the source removed, he felt himself tremble and heard his teeth grinding against each other and before he knew it he had moved himself towards one of the sturdy walls, unleashing a flurry of hard, fast strikes against the rough exposed edges of the bricks it was made up of. 

His body was terrifying him as he stood there in the almost pitch black room with his forehead pressed against the now blood smeared wall. The tight pain of his muscles, the fires lighting his every nerve endings, the physical sensation of his blood pumping entirely too sluggishly for comfort, the hypersensitivity to light and noise and now, the raw bloodied skin on his knuckles after the harsh walls refused to give into his attacks. A sickly feeling in the tips of his fingers began to creep into his psyche, he stood there in the dark, and curiously began dragging his nails down the grooves of cement that held the bricks together, each time pressing harder and harder until… he felt the nail lift from its bed. all he felt the urge to do was continue until one by one, they fell to the floor below. A sick relief washed over him when he had freed his fingers from their restraint. Anyone in their right mind would have screamed, cried, anything. But his thoughts felt wordless as he stared down, jaw clenched tight and body still trembling in anger. He didn't even know what he was angry about anymore.

All he could do to distract himself from the overwhelming agony he found himself in was to pace. To keep moving and stave off the feeling of rotting when he stood still for too long. He became so focused on the methodic pacing he almost didn't notice his eyes were watering and a deep, unmoving pain had settled in his soul. A single moment of lucid clarity was all his frantic mind had allowed him. He stood perfectly still again, for what felt like the first time in weeks, not mere days. His breathing became panicked as he looked at the damage to his hands and knuckles, at the raw skin where he had pulled his watch off in anger, the pain in his fingertips suddenly coming into focus as he watched the darkened blood ooze out, like it had done on his arm. He knew he was losing himself, his mind. He remembered next to nothing since _that_ attack and now it was all hitting him at once and he needed to get out of his self made prison. 

He found himself thankful that the sky was black again, one of the few benefits of an apocalypse was certainly the lack of light pollution in the night sky. He stood perfectly still at the threshold of his sanctuary, feeling the cold night breeze ease the fire of his skin and dry the fevered sweat that had coated every inch of him. He hadn't seen the sky like this before, untouched by humanities influence. He hadn't paid any mind to looking at the stars in the last few months, what with the horrors that would be waiting in the shadows, but right then he felt safe. Like he was going to be okay in spite of everything.. All at once the pain of his existence dissolved and he felt alive again for a brief second.

He felt hard concrete on the back of his head and the stars were extinguished.


	2. the biting cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> apologies, this one's a short one! just the hunters experiences when he first "wakes up" in his new life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when I first started writing this story I was like "I wanna write smut with the hunter" and then I accidentally wrote down like... 6000 words before it even got remotely close to filth and then I typed some more and there was still no filth yet. there is no filth to be found in this chapter. just a mildly spooked new hunter on his lonesome.
> 
> as of writing this, I have had 7 hits and a kudos! I wasn't expecting anything at all but if you're seeing this, thankyou for reading and I hope my writing style isn't as awful as I imagine it is! (I am my own worst critic after all)

_ _

_ ((here's the boy now that he's all... un-living)) _

_ Bright yellow light sears through his closed eyes, blinding him into consciousness as he frantically pushes himself up and scrambles back into the darkness behind him. Something bright and hot on the warm toned expanse in the distance, hovering ominously clearly to push him into the shadows. The darkness doesn’t hurt his eyes when he opens them. Unfamiliar walls surround him, and strange objects are flung around as he follows the peculiar sensation coursing through his nose. It smells strong, not that he has a frame of reference for smells, does everything smell this… loud? Noises ring into his ears muffled and rough, a lot of them all at once until they get quieter and. He looks around for the source and squints as his eyes lock onto a group of unfocused shapes against the pink sunrise hues of the sky, he knows they are far away but his eyes narrow and suddenly they are crystal clear, as if they’re in front of him.  _

_ Taken by surprise he scrambles to his feet and waves his arms at the sudden intrusion of his space, he loses his balance and falls backwards onto something soft. Another strong smell, but this one is different, from below him. He tests plush fabric beneath his hands and with each small movement a cloud of that smell is forced into his senses. He isn’t fond of that at all and a low, involuntary growl escapes his throat. He jumps a little at the bizarre noise, it sounded too close for comfort and he had felt it in his chest before he heard it. _

_ He stayed in his crouched position for a while, trying to orient himself with all of the overwhelming noises and sounds coursing through his brain and weaving into every crevice and crack like a pair of unwelcome, curious hands. He hadn’t noticed his breathing speeding up until it was somehow drowning out all the other sounds. He tries to stand but it feels wrong and unusual like his body refuses to straighten out like that, he takes a few short steps forward on all fours and is relieved to find no discomfort in doing so. _

_ It's time to leave, he doesn't know where but he feels it deep in his core that he needs to run, to move more than this cramped enclosure will allow him to. He forgot how the hot light of the sun burnt his eyes before, how is he supposed to go out when that infernal thing is so persistent in it's objective of blinding him? It's then that he notices something in his peripherals, he tugs on it a little, finding it soft and easily moved as he pulls it further over his head. It almost entirely covers his eyes as he steps out into the light again, finding it bearable with his face obscured like this. _

_ One quick survey of the area he finds himself in and he begins stalking away from that small strange smelling room. With no idea where he is or how he came to be here, he finds himself with no direction to go, no path to take. He ends up following a new smell and the sounds that seem to accompany it, leading him to the edge of the roof and peering down towards a large mass of shambling figures. They vaguely remind him of his own shape, but these ones look lethargic and unaware of anything as they bumble between strange structures on the ground. _

_ A strange world, he thinks. It feels… other.  _


	3. snowfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> our hunter has found himself travelling with a survivor, winter is fast approaching and the pair has found refuge that seems to be safely tucked out of the paths of the undead.
> 
> shared bed trope. how could I not. 
> 
> note: bold and italic is the hunters pov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't be bothered writing another 4k words about *how* they met and what's lead up to this moment, so that's completely up to the reader to fill in those gaps with whatever you want! what's important now is that it's been a long while but the hunter finally winds up back in the room he died in.
> 
> the survivor is she/her, but I didn't go into any detail at all about her physical description bc there's nohting I hate more than reading an ambiguous protag and then being hit with a description that is so far removed from what I had imagined that I just... switch off from the fantasy. F in the chat. the only concrete thing about this survivor is that she has a corporeal form B)

As the snow starts to settle on the rooftop, she ushers him into the small room and bolts the door shut behind him. It being metal doesn't help with insulation much but at least it will stop any rogue wind from creeping in. When she turns to properly investigate the small solitary structure, she finds it surprisingly stocked and seemingly untouched. Her eyesight being that of a humans pretty much stops where the meagre light from the window stops, but she spots what appears to be an electric lamp sitting on a table, a thin layer of dust covering the small solar panel on top. She reaches for it almost excitedly and tests its power, it flickers to life for a second before fading entirely. "God damnit." she sighs to the Hunter, who has taken it upon himself to follow his nose in investigating deeper into the thick shadows, she leaves him to it for the time being. Reluctantly, she opens the door again to leave the small lamp out to charge, maybe the blinding white snow reflecting the weak sunlight will help in some way. She's no scientist but it makes sense to a degree.

When she closes the door again she can't see him anywhere, and worries for a moment that he had seen some sort of exit and made a run, she almost deflates at the prospect of solitude after all this time. A can drops against the hard floor and rolls into the light, startling her. She clicks on her small flashlight and hesitantly follows the direction the can rolled from, only to stifle a laugh when she sees the lower half of the Hunter sticking out of some industrial shelving "Jeez H, had me worried I was gonna have to weather this blizzard alone" she laughs, getting a low grunt in response from the man before he slips through the shelf entirely, his head popping up to look to her between cans soon after. Another amiable grunt and he disappears into the shadows again "find anything interesting back there?" She asks as if he'll give her an actual answer. He doesn't, so she steps closer to see what seems to have caught his noses attention, shimmying around the shelving unit in the near pitch black. The small spotlight of her flashlight lands on what could possibly be… clean bed sheets? A lot of them all messily bundled into a pile on a single bed with its side pressed against a wall and more heavy shelves walling it in, leaving only the end of it open, where she stands. 

**_The human seems to experience pain when she wakes up from the ground. Maybe she needs soft things to sleep. She's tired and slow when they travel._ **

The Hunter is standing wearily in the middle of the bed, looking down at her as if to boast about his discovery "holy shit H! a bed that nobody has died in, I thought I'd never see one of these again!" She beams before looking at him standing there and abruptly yanks him off the bed by the sleeve, eliciting a tiny yelp "sorry, can't have you bringing your filthy shoes to this holy land" she grins, he just frowns and crouches back to the ground and continues poking around the room. 

She leans down to push her hand onto the mattress and then apprehensively rifles through the messy sheets, hoping they're not hiding any signs of human decay. To her surprise, they're clean. A bit grubby and dusty, but absent of the telltale death stains other beds had been decorated with. She turns away and collapses backwards onto the bed with a groan, already feeling the sweet relief of a mattress under her back instead of a hard floor or a military cot. The short moment of peaceful silence is broken by a low growl from the other side of the box room, instinctively causing her to spring up to see what has alerted the Hunter. She shimmies out of the cramped nest of a bed to search for him with her light. It settles on him, crouched in an oddly empty corner, his haunches raised like he'd seen another Hunter despite the room being empty of other life. She slowly steps towards him, crouching as she gets closer to not threaten him any more than he seems to be already "what's got you all spooked?" She asks, he growls in response but doesn't tear his eyes from the corner. She aims her flashlight towards it, but all she sees is a pile of what looks like used bandages. heavily used bandages. She tilts her head at them and then looks to the Hunter, he really does not like that pile in the corner, so much so that he seems to see it as dangerous. His lips start to peel back, exposing his teeth as a growl starts to build in his chest.

**_The smell was so strong this close. it was so familiar but he didn't know why. Dull memories of pain in his nerves, burning skin and pounding headaches. His body remembers white hot agony that his mind has no recollection of. It smells so wrong. He hates it. Hates that makes his skin remember things it has forgotten. He doesn't know what to do. It's not a living enemy to attack, it's not even moving but it hurts him where he didn't know he could feel pain._ **

"ooh no you don't. I'm not having you do that god awful banshee scream in here, champ" she says as she stands in front of him, hooking the stiff fabric cluster onto the tip of her rifle. The rumble in his chest doesn't ease up until she throws the door open and flings the scraps far out onto the snow before shutting the two of them back in. 

She can hear him grinding his teeth as he uncomfortably stands up to the door window, looking in the direction she discarded the bandages in. After he is sure it's taken care of, he lowers to the ground again and huffs, glancing briefly back in the offending corner before moving his attention to something else. "If some bloodied bandages get you  _ that _ heated, I'm shocked you still have any clothes on at all" she chides, looking at his once blue blood caked zip up and his shorts that were clearly not meant to be that dark. His response is another grunt and a concerned look that she can't make sense of. "Yeah you're right. The weather isn't hot enough for that" she smiles, attempting to lighten the mood, she shakes her head and points the flashlight around at the shelves, finally getting a good look at what they hold. 

"What in the… why are there so many cans of ravioli here? And not even the good brand! Why did they even make this shit anymore nobody ever bought it… ah. That's why it's here. Nobody else wanted it when the shit hit the fan. 'oh no dear we have to get the good stuff for the apocalypse, what ever will our dinner guests think if we have the cheap brand'" she imitates a made up rich person accent as she wanders over, looking for something else in the shelves, luckily for her there isn't just cheap canned meat pasta. When she turns again, she sees he had picked up the can that fell earlier, turning it in hand and shaking it like he knew what it was "oh don't tell me  _ you _ actually liked it when you were human? It's so nasty…" she tuts at him, amused. He drops the can when he hears the tone of her voice and she sighs, feeling a little bad.

They spend the next couple of hours in a comfortable quiet, she tells him stories of life before the end of the world that he has no reasonable way of responding to outside of vague vocalisations, but they are enough to keep her going. Occasionally his attention is torn from her speaking, head shooting up and swinging around to the door when he hears a lone walker bump into a lamppost 5 blocks away. The light fluttering through the small door window creeps lower and lower until it's all but gone, the night ushering in an unsettling chill in the small room.

“ _ Brrrr _ . Jesus, might have to call it a night here. Pretty excited about lying on an actual bed, not gonna lie” she shivers a laugh as she stands from the spot they had been resting in, he lifts his head to watch as she manoeuvres herself behind the sturdy shelf, guided by the small lamp she had brought back in.

**_This room doesn’t feel good to him. He’s been on edge since finding that strange pile of fabric in the corner. He watches her walk away to that strange nest-like area of the room. He wants to stay by the door, easy to escape if things are as bad as he feels they are. But he can’t deny the dull ache of exhaustion settling in his bones. The company of the human and the dim light of that small thing she found seems a darn sight more inviting than the cold metal door his back is pressed against._ **

She throws off her sturdy boots and worn jacket, discarding them to the foot of the bed as she throws back the covers and crawls into the welcoming embrace of sleep. A short moment passes before she opens her eyes when she feels a gentle thud against the foot of the bed. She finds him sat against it with his back to her, head still looking towards the exit as if he’s assigned himself the task of being night watchman. His tilts back slightly and what sounds like a distorted yawn escapes him. She snorts quietly, earning her a side eye from the man and another grunt. She turns the small lamp off and before long she’s conked out, lulled to sleep by the oddly calming sound of the hunters snuffly breathing from the foot of the bed.

**_She doesn’t seem to hate this room. Maybe it isn’t dangerous. He can hear her breathing steady in her sleep, not moving. He wonders what a restful night would be like, to not be on high alert constantly. The sounds of the world are usually an ever present menace in his ears, but right now the world seems quiet, peaceful. Like every unliving creature out there has hidden indoors to escape the biting cold. While she sleeps he looks around, mostly to reassure himself that there are no threats. He moves as silently as possible, as he is well versed in doing, so not to disturb her well needed slumber. He paces in front of the door a few times, occasionally standing to peer into the monochromatic night. The snow is thick on the roofs, making them barely distinguishable from another even with his heightened senses. He huffs through his nose at the lack of danger outside these walls. His constant, involuntary alertness feels entirely wasted in this moment. He sees his breath in front of his face as he parks himself back at the edge of the bed and can’t subdue a shiver that runs through his body, the vibrations bringing out a low growl._ **

A haphazard fumble in the dark and her hand lands on the switch of the lamp again, she sits upright after being woken by the telltale warning sound he emitted “what’s going on?” she whispers, trying her best to move silently towards the foot of the bed, closer to the safety of him. His head zips around in slight surprise at her sudden presence, causing him to jump a tiny bit and bump into another shelf. Despite the growl that stirred her from her sleep, he doesn’t seem at all like he’s been threatened by something. She tilts her head, noticing the gentle tremors shaking his frame and the shallow puffs of breath in the air in front of his face “are you… are you cold? I didn’t think you could feel the cold…” she ponders quietly, searching his face for an answer. He just brings his knees closer into himself, arms clutching them tight against his chest and his eyes still glued to the exit. She feels bad for him, honestly. The bottom half of his legs are completely bare and the forearms of his sweatshirt have long since torn away, exposing the sickly colour of his complexion and the stark contrast of the veins under his skin. His right arm is gruesomely decorated with raw, irritated looking scars and it almost looks like another hunter had attacked him. She sighs and drops her head a little, considering her warm, inviting bed “I can’t believe I’m about to ask this” she mutters more to herself than him before looking up again, tapping his shoulder to bring his attention back “listen. I know this is very sudden and all since I haven't even introduced you to my deceased parents, but do you want to sleep in this bed. With… me?” he gives her the familiar look of bewilderment at the sounds she’s directing towards him “but no funny business! strictly for warmth and battery recharging purposes” she adds rather sternly, pointing a finger at him. He has no idea what she’s trying to convey and brushes it off, turning his head back to the metal door.

She lets out an exasperated sigh “jesus don’t make me actually pull you in here” she says as she grabs a handful of his sleeve and tugs, hoping he got the gist. His head swings around again, locking his pale yellow eyes on her face and then at the hand on his shoulder. He makes a small grunt again, but this one sounds somehow like a question, a ‘what the fuck’ question. She just tugs harder, almost dragging him up before he relents, hesitantly crawling up to the foot of the bed, evidently fully prepared to just curl up right on the end like a family pet. She sighs again, punctuating it with a small laugh “listen, I’m not usually this pushy about getting a guy in bed, but it’s simple thermodynamics and it’s the end of the fuckin’ world. Now get up here and stop shivering, your teeth chattering is real damn loud” she throws back the duvet that she had kept herself under, shivering as the cold night air hits her fully. He looks at her, and then the empty space she had made by shuffling up to the wall. He cautiously places a clawed hand against it, slowly moving more of himself into the warm space and finding relief in the softness of the mattress. For a second, he begins folding himself back into his usual position, knees up to the chest, arms around knees, head tucked down. A gentle shifting in the mattress and she’s sat right beside him too, with an amused look on her face “I mean, you got the right idea, but sleeping like that will help neither of us, really” he loosens the grip on himself a little as she pulls his rough arms from his knees and motions for him to kick his shoes off, which he does. She looks at his face, finding it fixed on her curiously, as her hands come up to the zipper at his chest.

**_The lack of coverings on his feet is an odd sensation, what could removing layers possibly do to stave off the chill? He wonders. The small hands nearing his neck sets his heart racing in a slight panic. This is the thing that protects his face from the daylight, what if he loses it? What is she doing with it? Why did she drag him up to this soft thing? Why does she keep looking at him so… gently. And the long sounds she directs at him are never… bad. This is weird, he thinks. But he is cold, and the close company is strangely soothing. Maybe she’ll be warm in her sleep and he won’t be so cold._ **

She notices his breath hitch as she begins to pull the zip down “I’m not going to hurt you, H. you can keep it right there on the shelf so you know where it is. I just don’t want to sleep next to you when this is caked in god knows what… or who” she shakes her head and speaks gently. The dark grey shirt underneath is almost completely untouched by the outside stains, save for the section of the neckline that has been exposed all this time, she smiles as she reads the bold text printed across his chest “New York, huh? That’s where you came from? You’re a long way from home” she notes rather solemnly “I guess everyone is a long way from home now…” 

She shakes herself from the thought, hesitantly bringing her hands up to the edges of his hood. He tenses up again, as if doing so will hurt him. She sighs and pushes it down anyway.

**_It was gone, pushed back from his face like it was nothing more than the soft fabric it was made of. His shield from the harsh, burning light of the world. He felt exposed, at risk and in danger. His breathing slowed again as he searched her face for any sign of aggression, but he found none. No reason to be fearful even after his protection was taken from him._ **

She wasn’t sure what she would find under the hood, perhaps a disfigured, tumorous growth like the ones with the tongues, or the ones that vomit on everything. But no, nothing of the sort. Instead, a frighteningly human face looked sorrowfully back at her. His brows knitted together and his mouth in a hard line as he seemed to search her face for something too.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, sending out another small cloud and she chuckled “see? It’s not so bad  _ not _ wearing blood encrusted clothes, huh? Doesn’t smell as nasty either! I mean… there’s still like… I don’t know how many months worth of sweat here. But I’m guilty of that too, so we’re even. If you can handle it with your spidey senses, then I can handle it with my basic ass, factory default human nose” she smiles, hoping that will put him at ease. She tucks his hoodie on the shelf right beside him, making sure he can see it.

**_The smell of the dried viscera from his sweatshirt was still there, but not as strong now that it wasn’t directly beneath his face. It’s almost pleasant to not be wearing such a scent any more. He can’t recall ever feeling the tops of his arms uncovered, it's refreshing until a frigid breeze hits them. He’s still on edge, expecting the worst to happen at any moment, but that moment never seems to come. She’s moving now, lying on her side and looking up at him, always expectant of something. Her noises are calming, at least. Naturally, he is cautious to lie down. Straightening himself out feels wrong, he just wants to curl up into a ball, as small and hidden as possible while he is most vulnerable, but this time, he ignores that instinct._ **

She’s almost shocked when he actually lays down beside her, he never seems comfortable being upright, but maybe a night as cold as this calls for sacrifices of what has become normal for the two of them. She throws the thick duvet over him and tucks her arms up to her own chest, waiting for him to move and find his own comfort before killing the light again. He writhes and tosses for a while, sleeping like this seems to be completely alien to him but it doesn’t stop her from falling asleep anyway. The night was going to be long and he’d tire himself out eventually, she figured.

What felt like a good number of hours passed before she was woken by something again, but not a sound like that first time. Instead, she was roused from her sleep by the distinct presence of a body pressed up to her own, an arm slung around her and limbs tangled in her own, at first she thought it no more than a vivid memory of life before all of this, a reliving of a moment of quiet comfort shared between her and someone long gone by now. Subconsciously, she pressed her head further into the crook of his neck, relishing in the familiar embrace and snaking her own arm around him to close the little distance between them. What tore her from the fantasy in her head was the grunt that came from the body against her, her eyes flew open to reveal absolutely nothing since it was still pitch black in the room and she was completely lacking any degree of night vision. In an attempt to put some distance between herself and the hunter, she tries to roll away only to find a solid brick wall at her back “oh.. Shit” she whispers, despite the constant reminder in the back of her mind that this man can kill with a swipe of his hand, she doesn’t want to disturb his evidently peaceful slumber. Her attempt at relinquishing herself from his hold only serves to encourage him more, he pushes himself, and subsequently her, closer up to the wall.

**_This is the most comfort he has allowed himself to feel in what seems like a lifetime. Something painfully recognizable in the closeness of another body. The things that remind him of things he doesn’t know usually make him angry, but this time it only makes him want more of it. He doesn’t know what the feeling is, but it's warmer than the sun that blinds him and for some reason he isn’t cautious of it. Perhaps it's just the exhaustion talking, but he thinks he would be content to stay like this until the world ends for good._ **

She gasps a little as he pulls her closer, her arm firmly clamped in place on his side by the deceptive strength of his “are you kidding me? Of all the man eating, cannibalistic murder machines I could have gotten myself saddled with, I got the  _ sleep cuddler _ ?” she muses, quietly.

Despite the potential danger of this situation, she resigned herself to just accepting it. After all, it has been years since she was held like this, and beggars can’t be choosers in the apocalypse. She once again falls asleep to the gentle sound of his breathing, even being able to feel it against the top of her head.

**_He wakes first, always on instinct right before the sun begins to rise. Like it was a scheduled thing his mind forgot to let go of. The room is still dark when he opens his eyes, she’s still there. He knew he had wrapped himself around her, but wasn't expecting the same in return. A dull panic tugs at his thoughts again and he, as gently as he is able to, unwinds himself from her embrace. He grabs his sweatshirt and silently crawls away and off the bed again, despite his body protesting the abandonment of such rare comfort._ **

**_The searing bright light of the sun begins it’s maddening intrusion of the safe room, he finds himself one of the only spots of pure shadow and elects to continue resting there until she wakes._ **

When the dim morning sun finally hits her at the back of the room she wakes, finding herself mourning the absence of his embrace.. Instead, the spot in the bed where he slept is cold and vacant, another familiar feeling she’d experienced in the other life. Only this time, there was no placard declaring ‘had a great night, had to head out. See you around’ on a bedside table, and no unwelcome hangover to distort her memory of the night before. No, this time all that greeted her was those rickety industrial shelves, only slightly obscuring the sun as it shone in and the crystal clear recollection of what happened in the dark. The morning is a darn sight warmer than the night, thankfully, and she has no urge to put her jacket back on yet. Now that she can see the small room properly, she finally sees just how much stuff the previous owner had stashed away. It’s essentially a small grocery store, guns and all. In her excitement for the ridiculously lucky discovery, she almost missed the familiar shape tucked one of the two dark corners, hiding himself behind a worn wooden crate. 

She deflates a little out of sympathy and crouches down by the crate, resting her arms on it as she speaks to him in a gentle tone “not so big on the sun, I take it? Is that why you keep your hood up all the time? Jeez…” she sighs, looking around the room for a moment before spotting the edges of a suitcase poking out from the foot of the bed “well how about that..." She knocks a shelf or two in her efforts, but manages to drag it out eventually, pulling it to rest in front of the cheap camping chair in the middle of the room “alright, H. moment of truth. Will this be  **A:** concealing an exorbitant amount of money  **B:** the carved up corpse of a mafia hitman, or… drum roll please…  **C:** actual clothes?” She smiles at the hunter like a game show host waiting for the contestant's final answer. 

He just looks at her from behind the crate, intrigued. “You better answer quickly or you forfeit the game and your opponent… uhhh… Chef Boya- _no I can't say that it's copyrighted_ , wins the game” she states as she unzips the edge of the suitcase, using the zip sound as a pseudo timer jingle “gonna need an answer, champ…” she throws the lid back, pleased with the reveal of actual clothes “awh, and the time is up! Unfortunately Dr. Ravioli takes home the grand prize today folks, better luck next time Mr.H” she laughs. The hunter stays planted firmly in his dark spot, his head titled as he observes her bizarre behaviour. She rifles through the clean clothes, not really concerned about what she pulls out, most of it seems like it’ll be a little loose on her but would probably fit his frame pretty well. She picks out a few pieces for herself, some worn, cut off sweatpants and a graphic tee of some description. She picks out something for him too, she’d managed to get his crusty ass hodie off the night before, with some perseverance she could wrangle him out of the rest of his viscera splattered garb.

She stands to remove her well worn baseball shirt before realising she has an audience still “uh… I don’t have a lot of choice in where to do this, man. Could you turn around maybe. These goods aren’t for just anyone” she does a spiral motion with a pointed finger, but his eyes just follow it before resting back on her face again. “Ugh, men” she sighs before just biting the bullet and hastily throwing her shirt off, scrambling to cover herself with the clean one before he realises what’s going on. She has less qualms about changing her pants since she has leggings on under her jeans, but she realises she’s been wearing them entirely too long too and should get rid of them. She looks to him in his corner, hoping now he'll decide to understand her, but he doesn’t. He keeps his vacant, but curious expression trained on her, to her dismay. Another ungraceful display and the sweatpants have replaced the leggings and jeans. “jesus this feels great” she sighs, sitting back in the chair. 

**_He pulls the things she threw in his direction into the shadows, though it’s obvious he isn’t entirely clear on what to do even after seeing her demonstration. He investigates the soft things with his nose, glancing back at her every now and then as if looking for confirmation that he's doing something right._ **

she’s grabbed the baseball shirt she had on previously and started tucking it around the metal grating on the door, suddenly the hard bright light flooding into the room is significantly reduced, instead a soft pale glow illuminates the area. He immediately relaxes at the absence of the beaming sun and nudges the crate to the side as he, to her surprise, stands. It’s an awkward and uneasy stance he takes, unsure of it. He reaches down to the hems at his waist and pulls both layers from his torso as he recreates her previous actions. She looks… saddened by this.

Her hand instinctively flew to her face when she saw what hid underneath his shirt. She wasn't expecting a supermodel or a bodybuilder but she also wasn't expecting  _ this _ . small remnants of what were once bandages hanging loosely from his shoulder, revealing a disfigured and painful looking collection of long, deep claw marks on his entire torso, pulling segments of his skin tight and red in stark contrast to his pallid skin tone. Whatever did that intended to tear him apart, and despite it, he survived, so she thought. 

And then she remembered what he was. He didn’t survive it.

**_He doesn't know why she looks so upset, did the sight of him without coverings upset her? Is she scared? He doesn't want her to be scared..._ **

She can’t stop the sadness that creeps up behind her eyes, making them sting. she stands again, unable to pry her gaze from the body he had brought to the next life with him. She looked to his face but he seemed unbothered by the sight he was greeted with in looking down at himself. The lack of response from him made her feel even worse about her reaction.

She stepped forward again, one hand hesitantly outstretched “H… what happened to you…” a gentle hand traced some of the jagged, bumpy lines. The muscles underneath the marred skin twitching slightly at the unfamiliar light touches “I can’t imagine...” the reveal of his scars had gripped a part of her heart that she thought long dead, that part of her that wanted to keep people safe. She felt like she had failed him in some way, despite not knowing him until _long_ _after_ everything had happened.

He curiously drags his own claws over the wounds she had traced and his face goes blank before distorting into something frightfully close to panic.

**_Red. all he saw was red, his own blood staining his eyes. He knows it's his. Something on top of him. Hurting him, tearing his skin like a rabid animal. A loud sound and the creature stops. The pain in his arm reignites. The empty feeling in his limbs despite the fire coursing through them. Can’t eat. Can’t sleep. It’s burning him alive without breaking the skin. He tears at his own chest, trying desperately to pull the excruciating inferno out. He can feel it everywhere. Nothing helps. Everything is cold again. The night washes over him and he forgets the world._ **

His breathing is heavy and labored as he begins to look frantically around the room and he almost collapses to the ground were it not for her standing in close proximity. His hands hold her tight as a deep pain racks his body. It almost sounds like a sob, like the sound a broken heart makes. She doesn’t know what’s happening, if she did something wrong or what. She lowers them both to the ground and they sit for a while, she runs her hands in small circles on his scarred and bruised shoulders like she would a distraught friend. There’s still someone in there, beyond the mindless killing and the need to hunt. She feels awful in sharing this moment with him, whoever he is. For most, the virus seemed to just kill them, rend them from their humanity and leave them mindless, rabid husks to roam the streets, but the others like him, she supposed retained a fraction of their former selves. Enough to make them smart enough to last this long without meeting their demise at the end of a gun.

He had shown signs of intelligence from the start, demonstrated his ability to be patient, calculated and logical in tandem with the other side of his nature, his desire to kill, maim and eviscerate things that stood in his path, this proved him to be a formidable presence in the world that she had had the morbid opportunity to witness on several occasions. She wonders how it must feel to be him right now, overcome with dormant emotion like this. She doesn’t know what it is he’s remembering and all she can do is keep him close like this and reassure him “it’s okay...”. His arms once again like a steel trap around her as he shook, his face contorted unnaturally in anguish as he pressed it against her chest.

_ The pain subsides as his mind focuses on the gentle thud of her heartbeat, the heat of the forgotten torture once again fades to less than a memory. _

She reaches for the clean shirt she had picked out for him earlier and brings it up towards his head, gently pulling him away from her as he relaxes his iron grip, looking up with sad curious eyes. He sits on the floor close to her as she guides his rough arms through the sleeves and pulls the soft fabric over his sturdy torso “there, not bad huh?” she smiles and pats his shoulders. He shifts into his usual crouch and reaches around for the bottoms, holding them out to her as if asking for assistance. Her cheeks darken immediately as she takes them from him “you gotta be kidding me, man. Honestly, you offer a guy a shoulder to cry on  _ one time _ and suddenly he gets ideas” she shakes her head, standing and gesturing for him to follow suit. She sighs, making a point not to look into his eyes that she knows are glued to her as she hestily unties the fraying canvas belt at his waist and then the fastenings of his heavily worn cargo shorts. Her breath catches in her throat at the compromising situation she’s found herself in, again as a quiet rumble echoes in his chest and she looks up at him red-faced and surprised by an expression. she hasn’t seen such tenderness cross his face before, not that he’s shown much besides neutral, confused, angry and distressed. She’s used to constantly feeling his eyes on her at all times, but not like this, not when her fingers are gingerly hooked through the belt loops at his hips. She feels her heartbeat in her throat and her mouth dry out, and he must have heard it as his eyes shift to watch her quickened breath rising in her chest. She’s pretty much frozen to the spot as he lifts a dangerously clawed hand up, ever so gently resting it where her heart beats. 

**_She didn't flinch when he was in turmoil. But held him. He liked that. Some quiet part of his mind urged him to feel the rapid beating in her chest, but not in a way that would cause her pain. He feels something similar rattling in himself, the same way it would when he's in the middle of a hunt. But he has no plan to take her down like prey. He doesn't want to hunt her._ **

For a moment she considers what he could be thinking before shaking her head and reluctantly putting a few feet of distance between them again “you… you can’t be looking at me like that, H…" she sighs quietly and wraps her arms around herself instead of throwing them around him again, but that would be a bad idea, surely?

**_He looks down at himself again, the thing that made her upset before is covered so what has warned her away this time, he wonders. He remembered what she did earlier and repeats it, shoving the torn coverings down on his legs, he tilts his head as her hands suddenly shoot up to cover her face_ **

"Jeez, man! Have some dignity you almost took those down too and I am not prepared to see  _ that _ any time soon!" She peeks through her fingers, making sure her eyes don't stray south of his torso. she can't help but laugh at the look he's giving her and she drops her hands, turning to look through the cans again since, luckily, her thoughts were derailed by the rumble of her stomach. The Hunter didn't even attempt to show any interest in covering his legs up again as he adopted his signature crouch, probably relieved to be free of the layers for the first time in forever.

As she looks through the cans, she spots a small, familiar metal object slotted down the side of the shelf and stretches her arm to reach it. She pulls it out and drops it on the short coffee table by the chair with a thud, evidently quite pleased with her find "well hot damn, looks like we're having a hot meal today!" She bounces, grabbing two random times before realising something. "Say, do you  _ have _ to eat people? Or can you eat regular crap like me too?" She asks him, gently throwing a can between her hands. He tilts his head, but watches the object in her hand like a hawk as he scoots himself forward toward the table. "Well. Guess there's only one way to find out…" she summises. Her joyful expression drops when she notices the cans don't have ring pull tops, she sucks through her teeth in thought for a moment before her eyes land on the man opposite her, on his hands. She laughs, sliding from the seat to sit opposite him at the short table. She sticks a hand out to him and only a short moment passes before he rests his own hand in hers, watching her use it like a tool to puncture a strong claw into the edge and drag it around until the jagged metal circle pops off. "Voila! You're like a swiss army knife!" She beams. He grunts and looks curiously at his hand while she heats the can up. As it turns out, he can eat regular food, and coincidentally seems to be the only person she's ever met that actually likes that brand of ravioli. 

**_He seemed reluctant at first, it smelled different to his usual meals, and struggled a whole lot less. That just took the fun out of eating it, really. But it wasn't unpleasant._ **

A short while passed the way it usually did, her talking and asking questions without getting coherent responses. The unease that they felt in each other's company all those weeks ago felt like it was never a thing. It’s still an odd situation, sure, he is still one of those things at the end of the day. But in that room, that sanctuary cut off from the hell outside, it felt like home. 

Night descends on the small room, draping everything in cold shadows once again. The small solar lamp was sufficiently charged throughout the day, it’s warm toned light brighter than the night before as she carries it towards the bed area before she climbs in again. The hunter takes the spot at the foot again despite the chill, to which she sighs “listen… as unexpected as it was, that thing you did last night was… nice” she says sheepishly, bringing her knees up to her chest where she sits on the wall side again. He turns to look at her to see she’s thrown back the soft cover again, inviting him again. He briefly looks to the door before crawling up onto the bed, taking up the awkward position of lying flat again, with a small smile she lies down too, putting them both beneath the soft cover. It’s a little awkward for a while, he lies looking straight up to the concrete ceiling and she, facing him. Now she has an opportunity to really take in the details of his face, how his brows constantly furrow in concern for something unknown, the muscles in his jaw tense as he clenches it shut and at this proximity she can make out the scarring near his pale eyes, barely visible in the dark circles that surround them like he hasn’t slept in all the time she’s been with him. Hidden amongst all the dark veins decorating his face is a distinct freckle sitting high on his cheekbone that elicits a short laugh and a sigh...


	4. avalanche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alright. here's dirt. ya boy finally gets to work out those legs after being confined to this small room with his human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> caveman brain kicks in. must canoodle. I am apprehensive about this chapter mainly bc I'm still very self conscious about my writing but also. . .. . dirt. . .. I hope it doesn't read as awful as I imagine it does! side note I hate. .. literally every word used in fics to describe a dongus. they all make my skin crawl, but needs must. 
> 
> I'm sure I will absolutely hate this when I reread it but have at ye!

**_A new feeling is washing over him as they lay in the dim quiet like this, another sensation he might have felt in another life. He tries to keep his attention on the hard grey of the ceiling since this feeling is more than just in his head. The polar opposite of the remembered pain he had felt that morning. No, this feels tangible, real. His nerves are alight again but there is no agony. He feels… dizzy, but not ill. It must be her._ **

“look at you Mr.Beauty Mark. How about that” she says quietly as she presses lightly on the dark spot on his cheekbone that she hadn't noticed until now.

**_He is pulled from his intense staring competition with the concrete above by an unexpected touch to his face. His resolve to just focus on the coldness of the room completely dissolved and he moves to take in her gently shocked expression fully. He wants to get closer again. Pull her into him to feel her unmarred flesh under his severe hands. To feel her soft skin against the roughness of his existence. A salve to his unending pain._ **

His abrupt movement startles her as he turns onto his side, trapping her hand between the pillow and his face as his whole body rolls toward her, closing the small distance between them “oh…” she puffs, finding his face impossible to look away from as his piercing eyes bore holes into her. She was used to the pallid yellow of them, usually rather cold feeling, but there was a heat behind them now. A heat she had seen before.

“I said... You can’t look at me like that…” there is no conviction in her hushed words, barely above a whisper. She merely says them to absolve herself of accountability, not that there is another soul present to hold these feelings against her. Her gaze trails down his stern face to his slightly parted lips, close enough now that she can feel his warm breath against her. The warmth of him is entirely too inviting as she impulsively presses her lips to his, savouring the feeling like it's something she’ll never feel again. 

**_He welcomes such a gesture, closing his eyes to taste her lips. Images flash through his mind too fast to process, the ghost of forgotten moments like this. He can't gather a single clear moment from any of them, but with them comes the ghost of an emotion more exhilarating than even a hunt. His heart quickens as he deepens their kiss, hoping to pull back more scattered memories._ **

The mattress shifts as he presses himself further into the sensation, a clawed hand delicately snaking around her torso to pull her closer still. Her eyes flutter open in disbelief at his embrace and she finds his eyes closed. "...H" she whispers against his fervent mouth, their lips almost connecting again as she stutters "I uh… I didn't mean to do that… I'm-" she loses the words when she finds him looking at her with a hunger behind his eyes. 

**_They're not close enough. He wants more… needs more of her against him. His mouth feels dry as he breathes heavily. He hasn't had these urges before but they make him feel as close to alive as he's ever felt._ **

"Oh God. I thought you looking at me softly was bad enough…" she combs her other hand through his hair, gently raking over the scalp at the back of his head. The low, gentle growl that escapes him catching, her off guard as he rubs his head back against that hand. she obliges his silent request and is rewarded with a full body shudder under her touch, though clearly not from the night air considering the immense core temperature he seems to keep.

At the realisation of what her actions have stirred in him, a long forgotten but welcome surge of something runs down her spine as he languidly pushes his himself closer to her "Oh… oh my" 

**_There's a heat pooling in his core, physically manifesting from the friction as he moves against her like that. His mind feels like it's working at half capacity, with all of his senses clouded by this carnal hunger. He growls softly before claiming her mouth again. His hand fumbling at the hem of her shirt before his rough palms are pressed against her, whimpering desperately into her mouth as he feels her soft skin under his fingertips._ **

She's seeing stars, dizzied by not only the urges bubbling within herself, but at the insatiable gentleness he's executing with her. They both now one false move and she could be grievously hurt by his touch, but here they are.

Impatiently, she finds her leg sliding up the thigh he had managed to wedge between her legs amidst the fervent kisses. He relents his assault on her mouth to drag his kiss bruised lips across her jaw and down to her neck, pressing his mouth against her pulse as if to taste it. The delicate grazing of teeth and the gentle caress of a tongue at her skin sends another hot flush through her and she bites back a pitiful mewl. a more rational person would fear for their life, but alas.

**_His senses are filled with something intoxicating. He still needs more, it's not enough. The hand under her soft shirt pushes upwards to indicate that it is a nuisance._ **

Her cheeks burn as she suddenly sits upright, heart racing and breathing heavy, a scant moment passes before he pushes himself up to meet her, hands magnetising to her sides trying to tempt her back into that mutual state of wanting, she presses a hand to her mouth to stifle a smile. reluctantly shooing his desperate grasps away "Would you simmer down for a second, I'm not going anywhere" she assures him but he doesn't seem to pay attention to her words, his mind clearly focused on something more  _ pressing _ . She sighs and pushes against his shoulders so he lies flat again, finally bringing him out of his horny stupor for a moment. She chuckles at the shock on his face "H, can I get this off you?" She asks sincerely, gently tugging at the bottom of his shirt to translate the question to something he understands.

**_Good idea. These coverings are in the way. He recognizes a desire in her eyes that he feels in his bones, he wants to feel her hands against his burning skin. He deftly removes the shirt and pays no mind to the direction his restless hands threw it in. As soon as his hands are freed they find their way back to her flesh, trying to push her coverings out of the way too_ **

"Past the point of no return..." she muses wistfully, removing her own shirt. Whatever insecurity she might have felt in any other moment like this, with anybody but him, is nowhere to be found. Just two people, both aware of what the other wants, and both willing and able to provide for the other what they want or  _ need _ . She moves to straddle his waist, looking down at him. He looks rather… cute. Clearly at a loss for words if he could speak at all, she just watches his eyes explore her bare torso for a moment like a curious animal.

**_His eyes wander, following the curve of her neck and exposed shoulders, down to a crevice in the centre of her chest. The constant low purr of a rumble in his chest peaks curiously as his sharp hands hold the soft curves of her, such a beautiful creature like this willingly subjecting herself to him. It's almost overwhelming. Perhaps existence isn't so bad after all._ **

"Jesus. You'd think you'd never seen boobs before…" she shakes her head, realising he probably hasn't in this half of his existence. He's just staring like a teenager seeing a naked body for the first time. With her lip caught between her teeth she tilts her head at him, considering her next move carefully before looking to the clawed hands that had settled on her hips. Slowly, she takes them both, guiding them up the curve of her waist to grasp the current target of his fascination.

**_The flesh at her sides was like satin under his callused hands. he gasped, surprising himself, when she was in his hands like this. Prying his eyes from her bare chest, he looks up to see her smiling, laughing. She liked this too. He would be content for it to end here, but here must be something more..._ **

With the precision of many years of experience, she unhooks the fabric at her back and slips her arms through the thin straps, looking down at herself to find his grasp still firm. Clearly, he's too dumbfounded to realise what just happened and she manually removes his hands on his behalf. She could have sworn she saw the corners of his mouth turn up as the fabric falls away

**_Her gentle hands find his again and he wonders where they'll be taken next. His eyes turn to dinner plates when she merely eases his grasp enough for the fabric that had been caging her to fall, revealing her torso fully to him. He feels his pulse racing and he pushes himself up again, burying his face in the curve of her chest and breathing in her tantalizing scent. His hands, as delicately as they are able, rub up and down her spine causing her to involuntarily arch herself firm against him._ **

She's entirely bewildered at his contentment for just this, but she supposed he is a bit… different from her previous lovers. Every new thing she does seems to be like sliced bread to him and every time his fingers dance over the small of her back she feels a pleasant chill run up her spine, and she's not entirely convinced that he doesn't know what he's doing. 

"So this is your thing huh? You just wanted to see boobs and cuddle a whole lot?" She shakes her head, moving her hands to cup his face and look at her. The look on his features is that of pure bliss, eyes half lidded like he just woke from a nap and mouth gently fallen open, evidently she’d pulled him from some level of stupor. using his lack of focus to her advantage, she grinds her hips down onto him, stifling the moan that was about to escape him with a sloppy kiss. Her tongue dancing on his lips as she continues her shallow movements against him, gently pulling his short hair again. His moans morph into whimpers again and he meets her tongue with his.

**_Every gentle tug at his hair pulls a primal sound from deep within him, a whine where there is no pain. Tremors dance down his spine and he finds himself rolling his hips in tandem with her. The friction where they are pressed together makes his head spin and his hands wander back to her hips, gripping them firm and aiding in the rhythm._ **

Well, she’s not sure what she was expecting given his recent displays of humanity, but it seems his mind wasn’t the only part of him that was capable of remembering more human sensations. She moans against his lips herself when she feels a considerable stiffness pressing up between her thighs, she parts their lips to look at him in pleasant surprise "I… I didn't think  _ that _ would still work…" she gasps, taking in the view of him in such a state, a wholly unexpected one for a dangerous individual like him to be caught in. His eyes resting half lidded and lustful on her and the flush of his chest and face is almost as pink as the kiss bitten hue of his lips.

**_The feeling of her rubbing against him is divine. It felt so good and he doesn't want it to end but he lets her take the lead, every new thing she's shown or done to him has been better than the last and he's curious to see what's next._ **

She ghosts a hand over his marred torso down to his abdomen, settling on the worn waistband of his underwear and watching the muscles twitch beneath her touch. She knows what power his lithe frame hides and is keen to find out what else is hidden...

**_To drown himself in this moment would be a heavenly torment that he would willingly throw himself to. He watches her hands dance across the jagged flesh of his form, aching for them to continue lower. He craves more movement against the presence between his legs where he has become painfully hard. He wants her to want him like he wants her. As if she understood the thoughts he couldn't communicate, she takes him in a firm grip and his eyes flutter shut. Thighs tensing beneath her, like tightly wound springs ready to release and it takes a great deal of restraint not to pin her against something right now as a low, pleasured growl ripples through him. He languidly rolls his himself into her hand, fighting back the sound that tries to tumble from his mouth. Her hushed amusement is music to his ears._ **

"Someone's eager…" she chuckles through a bitten lip. His expression and the sounds he makes stirring that heat in her, too. she slides from his lap fully to take the remainder of her clothes off. 

**_He's entirely dumbfounded when he sees her fully bare before him and he lifts a hand to curiously paw at the new skin that has been uncovered. The audible hitch in her breath as his fingers slip between her thighs sends a shock down his spine and elicits a low growl from his chest. He moves them against her again and a gentle hand grasps his arm, sliding down to carefully guide his hand further. His own arousal twitches as two of his digits slip against the wet heat and inside her. Both of her hands find his shoulders as she moves herself against his hand and he finds himself instinctively thrusting against nothing with his hips. He wants to feel himself inside her, but his hand isn't enough._ **

The heat in her begins to tighten and writhe in that familiar way and she knows she's close already. Hesitantly she stills his hand, but even just holding it against her is almost enough. When she pulls his hand away she can feel how excited she had gotten, and he can see it too.

**_He was doing something to her just then. He wasn't sure what but the sounds she made against his sensitive ear were like delectable fire in his veins. He looks curiously at his silky wet hand and the red of her face. He quite likes this look on her, too._ **

When she's caught her breath again she decides it's time for them to be on equal footing. The small wet spot on his underwear only encourages her as she pulls his waistband down, his stiff length springing forward onto his abdomen as he looks at her, dumbfounded as usual

She straddles him again, this time being able to feel the heat of his bare length against the wetness that had coated her. It's been a long time since she got anything like this.

**_He wants to bury himself in her more than anything. To lose himself in her body and never look back. The sensation of her wet heat grinding against him drives him to meet her movements with his own desperate thrusts. Before long she's lifted herself to line him up with what he can only assume is the opening his fingers slipped into. Her mouth finds him in the dim light of the lantern and he feels her lower onto his hips, completely enveloping him with a hushed moan. His back arches as a pleasant numbness washes over him, save for that one part of his anatomy that she had claimed with her own body._ **

She stills on him, savouring the sensation of him taking up space within her in such an intimate way. She had almost expected him to just mindlessly writhe up against her like a frenzied animal, but once again he was gentle, considerate. If anything she  _ wanted _ him to harshly drive her into ecstasy, it's been so long since she's felt the touch of another that even a selfish lover would have sufficed and that's what she expected of this man, all things considered. She parted her lips from his tender kiss, sitting upright on his waist. He had that look of complete and utter contentment on his face again and it made her knees weak.

**_He got his closeness. If he could smile he would have, but all he could do to communicate his feelings was run his hands over her and let the soft purr of a growl rumble through his chest. He really hopes she knows what it means._ **

"Fuck. You're going to be bad for business, H. I can tell" she strokes his face before resting her hands against his chest, slowly grinding herself up and down his length as small gasps fall from her. She feels his grip on her hips tighten a little, and he starts mirroring her movements again as a growl breaks through his lips. 

The cold night air cools the sweat at her back and sends a tremor through her spine. Her movement speeds up when she feels the heat reaching boiling point again. Seeing him like this, the gentle way his lips switched between being clamped tight between sharp teeth and fallen open in a silent gasp, the way his eyes fluttered closed and his brows knit together, the taut muscle beneath his rough skin flexing and relaxing when he thrusts to meet her, the jet black hair clinging to the sweat dampened skin around his hairline and the faint red lines she'd left on him unknowingly. He was rather beautiful caught entirely in this human moment. 

She let out a steady stream of moans as her movements begin to stutter, her eyes glued to his unaware expression "H…" she gasps

**_He continues pressing into her before he feels her tightening around him, it only serves to push him more and his movements speed up. His eyes shoot open when he hears the cry of pleasure from her, before he can figure out if that was good or bad, she collapses against his hard chest and he feels her lips against his collarbone. What happened there? he wonders. A wet heat oozes down onto the hard length still buried in her. He tests the waters, so to speak, and rolls his hips upwards again, coaxing out a small whimper of protest against the damp skin of his neck and he feels the light nip of skin between her teeth._ **

"Holy… shit." She pants against his damp neck. She stays pressed against him for a moment, savouring the feeling as she rides out the tail end of her climax. 

**_His heart is racing faster than he'd ever felt it. He wonders if she's feeling the same way he is, he honestly can't tell. He accidentally lets out a whine of frustration at the fact he can't communicate to her beyond vague vocalisations and gestures. She pushes herself up from him abruptly, looking down at him with a raised brow and making unintelligible sounds again._ **

"Eager for the silver medal, huh?" she grins, grinding against his hips once more before she finds herself rolled over and pinned down into the bed, he holds himself up on lean arms while still pressing his length into her.

**_This is a more familiar situation for him. This he was good at, pinning someone down. The precarious position they were in made him think about hunting again, only this time he had no desire to kill the person below, no. But it did flip a switch in his mind, now that he had the advantage of control. Without thinking about it he begins to move himself into her again, this time pushing deeper until he bottoms out inside her. His eyes could have rolled into the back of his head as he continues the motion_ **

She snakes her hands around his waist, urging him to continue as she looks up at him under her lashes. She can't help but look to where they're joined, seeing him bury himself into her again and again, feeling him hit every inch within her and the roughness of his hard body grinding against her overstimulated entrance is pure ecstasy

The obscene sounds of their bodies joining with each stroke, coupled with the ferocity of him entirely losing himself in the moment, has that pressure bubbling within her again soon enough and she hooks her legs around his waist

**_He can feel something tightening within him, intoxicating and inviting as his waist slams into her, pressing both of their bodies down into the creaking springs of the mattress. His razor sharp claws have ruined the bedding beneath he was bracing himself with so he moves them to the sturdier metal frame of the bed, the new stability allowing him to push deeper and harder into her. White spots begin to creep into the peripherals of his vision as he takes in her desperate expression, sending a wave up his spine and forcing out a stuttered growl as he grinds down. The feeling of her soft legs pulling him close sets his nerves alight with every thrust and his movements become ragged and sloppy. The muscles in his thighs begin to burn from the strain of his relentless pounding, but it's a delicious pain._ **

The telltale stutter of his movements and the brainless look on his face tells her what's around the corner and the thought of it pushes her closer to her own release again. She grabs hold of the stiff arms above her head and uses them to leverage herself in such a way that she's able to grind up to him with surprising strength. Her mouth falls open as her skin begins to prickle and a pleasant cold wave flows through her body, causing her to arch her spine and tilt her head back "oh… oh H…" she stammers before a broken moan fills the quiet room

**_A split second passes as he watches her expression turn from lip biting concentration to bliss. The feeling of her tightening around him again finally brings him to the precipice he was teetering on and with a final ragged thrust, a cry of pleasure erupts from his chest. The most human he'd ever sounded. He presses her hard into the mattress as he feels her still clamping around his length. A white hot sensation runs through him as he empties himself into her_ **

She holds him close, still inside her as she rides out the waves of her high around his twitching length. His arms soon buckle from their grip on the metal bed frame and he collapses onto her, gently rumbling against her chest in that contented way again.

**_He offers a few fatigued thrusts against her, as if still wanting to chase that moment but the overstimulation is enough to stop him in his tracks. He feels her shake gently with laughter under his large frame and the sound warms him. He's completely devoid of the energy to lift his head right now so he just remains slumped over her as his hands weave underneath her to hold her tight._ **

Running her hands through his hair again, she feels his breathing begin to steady against her neck, she chuckles quietly and plants a kiss on the side of his face as she pulls the blanket over their bodies, both clearly more than happy to let sleep take them entwined like this.

The small lamp eventually fades out of power again, leaving them in the comforting darkness of this sanctuary with only the sound of their own soft breathing filling the air as they begin to slip into unconsciousness.

**_For the first time since he can remember, his sleep is peaceful, no nightmares to wake him and no danger to hurt him. He sees things in his dreams, memories perhaps. None of them make sense, but the pleasant feelings they bring with them tell him he has nothing to fear..._ **


End file.
